DRAMAtical Soldiers
by The Dreamer and the Realist
Summary: Dramatical Murder/Attack on Titan Crossover. Takes place mostly in the years before the fall of Wall Maria. The events and choices that led Koujaku to join the Survey Corps, Aoba and Clear the Garrison, and Noiz a place in Levi's special operations squad, while Mink is the badass of the Underground City. But wait… where is Ren in all of this?
1. Chapter One

**R&R**

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><p><strong>DRAMAtical Soldiers<strong>

**Summary:** Takes place mostly in the years before the fall of Wall Maria. The events and choices that led Koujaku to join the Survey Corps, Aoba and Clear the Garrison, and Noiz a place in Levi's special operations squad, while Mink is the badass of the Underground City. But wait… where is Ren in all of this?

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><p><strong>1833<strong>

**Wall Maria**

**Midorijima District**

"Stop it! It hurts!"

Tears welled up in the eyes of a young boy as his long blue hair was pulled roughly by a boy slightly older than him. The laughter of two other boys cut through the nighttime air as they watched. The boy that was pulling on his hair smirked and regarded the younger boy with a look of superiority.

"Why? Who has blue hair anyway? Ya look like a blueberry!" the other boys continued to laugh with encouragement, urging the boy to continue what he was doing.

The blue haired boy cried in pain as his hair was yanked back once more with more force than before.

"What are ya gonna do about it ya big baby? Are ya gonna cry for your mommy and daddy? Oh that's right! They're dead! Eaten by titans for being stupid enough to go outside the walls!"

At the mentions of his parents, the young boy felt a pang of pain in his chest, and his eyes tightened as anger flooded into his system.

"Shut up! They're not dead!" the boy cried as he tried to reach back through the pain to the boy behind him.

Another hard yank to his hair caused him to stop in his tracks from the sharp pain that ran through his body as another cry of pain escaped him.

"You're so weak! Why don't you join your parents and be titan food too?" the boy laughed cruelly and yanked his hair again, pleased with the tears that were now running down the younger boy's face.

"Get away from him!"

The boy looked up to the angry voice that called out to them, and their eyes widened as they saw the familiar face of a boy much older than them, his red eyes practically glowing with ferocity with the light of the moon as he ran in their direction. The younger boys paled at the sight, and immediately turned in the opposite direction.

"Crap! It's Koujaku! Run!"

At the sight, the older boy increased his pace.

"Like hell you're getting away!"

Quickly catching up to the boy that had been bullying the blue-haired boy, Koujaku grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back from the other two boys as they only spared a single look back before continuing to run away. Not waiting another moment, Koujaku balled up his fist and struck a well-aimed punch to the boy's face that sent him sprawling backwards and onto the hard ground.

Koujaku was about to advance and strike again when the younger boy raised up his hands and waved them in front of him frantically.

"W-wait! Stop! I'm sorry! I won't do it again!"

The boy was crawling backwards, trying to create as much distance between himself and the older boy could see the fear clearly reflected on his now bruised face. Koujaku glowered down at him before folding his arms in front of him.

"Tch, you better not. Now get lost!"

The boy didn't hesitate as he scrambled up from the ground, almost tripping over his own feet as he hurried to get away.

Koujaku quickly turned around until his gaze fell on the blue-haired boy who was on the ground, his hands balled up in front of his eyes as he sobbed into them. At the sight, the anger in his body was quickly replaced with worry.

"Aoba! Are you okay?" the older boy didn't hesitate to make his way over to the younger boy, and quickly looked him over for any signs of injury.

He felt relieved when he saw no signs of bruises, but frowned when he realized what that meant. He was tempted to stroke the boy's hair, but knew that it would only cause him more pain. Koujaku sighed, and helped the younger boy to his feet as he led him in a familiar direction.

The night air was chilly, and the alley where Aoba had been dragged to was empty of even stray animals as they exited towards a back road. Koujaku didn't want to go into the main roads in Aoba's condition, even if at this time there wouldn't be too many people still about.

"Why are you even out here at this time Aoba?" Koujaku questioned him gently.

Aoba didn't reply, but Koujaku was glad to hear his sobs had died down to sniffles. He had been looking for him for a while now, and he was glad that he had found him when he did, even though he would have preferred to have gotten to him before those idiotic boys.

"Granny is worried about you…" Koujaku continued, hoping that he would understand the situation.

"I… I don't want to go home," Aoba replied meekly, one of his hands rubbing his puffy red eyes while the other was held in Koujaku's gentle grip.

At his response however, Koujaku frowned.

"Why not?" he prompted, and led them to the familiar playground that was only a few feet away from them.

This time Aoba didn't reply, and Koujaku guided him to the bench where he hoped he could help him talk it out.

"What did those boys say to you?" Koujaku asked instead, knowing that there was a deeper reason to why Aoba was crying like he was. He knew that if it had been about the pain, he would have already stopped crying.

He knew he was right when fresh tears ran down his face.

"T-they said my parents are dead… t-that titans ate them."

Koujaku frowned, and he looked down at the younger boy next to him with sadness in his eyes.

"I-is it true Koujaku? Were they eaten by titans because they left the wall?" for the first time, Aoba turned to meet his gaze, fear and sadness reflected in his honey colored eyes as he looked at him pleadingly.

Koujaku was at a loss of words, unsure of what to say, and only snapped out of it when Aoba took his silence as confirmation and started to cry once more.

"Hey now… don't cry. We don't know what happens when people leave the wall… maybe they found what they were looking for after all. And you know how your parents are… they go wherever they want to go, and you never know when they'll come back. Maybe they just found a place they really liked, and that's why they haven't come back yet," Koujaku answered as he placed a comforting hand on the boy's shaking shoulder.

He was glad to see that his words worked, and watched with relief as Aoba's tears finally came to a stop.

"And no matter how long it takes them to come back, you have Granny and me. We'll be here for you."

Aoba looked up to the nighttime sky, and his gaze traveled to the horizon where Wall Maria blocked his view of what lay beyond Midorijima. He remembered the last smile his parents had given him before they left, but they had never told him they would tell him stories of their trip like they always did when they went somewhere. Perhaps they knew… that they wouldn't come back this time. His chest ached with the familiar pain, but this time he held back his tears. He had caused enough trouble for the night. Granny was probably worried sick, and Koujaku was probably tired of looking after him.

"I'm sorry Koujaku… for always making you look after me."

Koujaku smiled kindly as he regarded the blue-haired boy.

"There's no need to apologize. I'm here because I want to be."

Aoba gave him a small smile, and rubbed his face to get rid of the tear streaks.

"Are you ready to go?" Koujaku asked, and Aoba nodded as he hopped off the bench.

Koujaku smiled as he reached for the boy's hand, and gave it an encouraging squeeze as they made their way back to his home.

Everything would be alright. No matter what happened.

"Hey Koujaku…" Aoba spoke up hesitantly.

"Yes Aoba?"

Aoba paused, as if considering what he was going to say next.

"What do titans look like?" he finally seemed to ask.

Koujaku frowned, never having really thought about it. He was old enough to understand that titans were not to be taken lightly, and that they had been lucky to have had almost a century of peace. Still, he couldn't help but feel an once of curiosity as he considered Aoba's question.

"I don't know… but I hope we never find out."

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><p><strong>835<strong>

"You can't do this! Mom!"

The distressed Koujaku looked to his mother for support as he watched the random men pack their possessions only to take them to a coach outside.

"Koujaku, please do as you're told."

Koujaku was taken aback by the way her shoulders were slumped, and the look of resignation in her eyes. He blinked with confusion as his demure mother looked even more so than ever before.

"I promise everything will be explained to you when we get there…" she said softly, and Koujaku felt his body go numb.

As the life that he knew was packed into an elegant coach, he allowed himself to be led into its unfamiliarity as his mother joined him and sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his clenched fist. Only one of the men that had packed his things joined them inside, and as the coach began to move, only one thought crossed his mind when they approached the gates of Midorijima.

Blue hair and honey eyes.

'_I didn't even get to say goodbye…'_

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><p><strong>Mitras<strong>

**Capital City**

"Young Master, please hold still…"

The sandy haired boy thrashed in the grasp of the maid as she tried to clean the blood that was running down his face. He couldn't see from his right eye from the blood that coated it, but he elbowed in the direction he thought the maid to be. With a cry, the older woman let him go as his elbow connected with her chest, and the young boy scrambled out of her grip and ran forward.

He paused in his tracks when he saw the towering figure of his father in his way, a deep frown on his face and anger in his eyes as he looked down at the boy.

With what sounded like a growl, he grabbed the boy by his hair and forcefully dragged him back to the chair where the maid had been tending to him.

"Do you not understand boy?!" he said as he yanked on his hair.

The boy in his grip did not struggle, or show any sign of pain as he only glared in the direction of his father.

"Honey stop! You'll hurt him more!" the boy heard the sound of his mother's voice coming from the doorway of his room.

"If he cared about pain he wouldn't be starting fights with the other children! He's bringing shame onto our family name with his actions, and he needs to learn a lesson," his father replied.

The boy's frown only deepened, not really understanding what his father was saying but knowing that he was not happy with him.

"He's still young… he doesn't know what he's doing…" his mother continued to say, stepping closer but keeping her distance from them.

His father scoffed.

"A boy his age shouldn't have any idea about fighting! What will the other Nobles think of our parenting skills? They'll think us inept as parents! Let alone deserving of our family name. He has to be set straight before he gets worse."

His father turned to look at the maid, the anger in his face making her unconsciously shrink back from him.

"Make sure he doesn't leave this room for the rest of the night."

Without another word and a final glare in his son's direction, the tall blonde man turned and left the room.

The young boy only glared at the retreating figure, not sure why he was receiving the treatment he was.

"Noiz dear…" the boy looked up to the sound of his name and met his mother's hesitant gaze.

"Please, you have to listen to your father and stop getting into fights with the other children…" despite her soft words, Noiz couldn't help but notice that she kept her distance, like she always did. He frowned at the realization, and didn't respond, just looked away to the ground while the maid continued to apply some clear liquid to his head and wipe away the red liquid with a towel.

With a sigh, his mother silently left the room, and Noiz was left alone with the maid tending to him.

After a long moment of silence, the maid seemed to finally finish as she put away her supplies.

"You really are something young master…" she said, "anyone your age wouldn't be able to take the pain of your injury. It's a wonder you never cry…"

Noiz frowned as he pondered her words. He didn't understand… why did people cry? The kids his parents took him to see would cry when he did some things, or out of no reason. He saw the tears come out of their eyes, and sometimes would try to make them do it again out of curiosity. He had tried to make himself cry sometimes too… but even when he did the same things to himself like he did to those kids, the tears never came.

Was something wrong with him?

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><p><strong>The Realist:<strong> I've been dying to find a crossover with there two Fandoms, but either I'm really bad at looking, or there simply aren't enough. Either way, here's my attempt at a crossover between two of my ultimate favorite fandoms. I have so many ideas and I'm so excited! I've also posted this unders SandscriptTale on Archive of Our Own. So let me know what you think, and most of all, I hoped you enjoyed it! :)


	2. Chapter Two

**R&R**

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><p><strong>DRAMAtical Soldiers<strong>

**The Realist:** _Thanks so much for those who reviewed and those who read and enjoyed it. I managed to finish the second chapter with haste thanks to the motivation I have to write this crossover, so that's something to be happy about! I'm still setting up the scenarios, so hope you guys don't mind semi-slow build ups. This chapter is basically centered around Koujaku since, if you haven't noticed already, I'm writing this story as a timeline basically, and right now Koujaku is the one going that's going through life-changing events. But hey, we all love him right? So without further ado, here's is the next installment :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

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><p><strong>836<strong>

**Wall Sina**

**Ehrmich District**

He had never cared to know who his father was, something few children in the same situation could say. He was the type to value what he had, not wish for what he didn't have. And while sometimes he would only be saddened to know that his mother might be lonely without a companion, he only made it his mission to make sure he could make her as happy as he could. His goal had always been to be strong, so that he could protect those that he cared the most about.

"Ghh!" closing his eyes tighter, Koujaku bit onto his arm harder than before, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth as his head throbbed from the continuous sharp pain across his back.

_'It'll be over soon… just bear it…'_ he repeated the words in his mind over and over, trying his hardest to keep himself from thinking about the pain.

In moments like these, he knew only a few thoughts could truly take his mind from the pain. He thought of his mother, who he knew would silently sit in her room, tears running down her face as she waited for his torture to end, blaming herself for not having the power to keep him from undergoing this trial.

And for what?

A father that only claimed him as his son in order to have an heir, so that his name would not die out? Because his wife couldn't bear children?

Why did it have to be him? Why couldn't he simply father some other son by another mistress? He didn't want to be a noble. He didn't care about the prestige and privileges. He rather live in a slum… if only it meant living with the people he cared about…

Once more blue hair and honey colored eyes flashed through his mind, and his heart surged with warmth despite the excruciating pain.

A memory. A smiling face. A park. Swings. Laughter. Happiness.

_"Don't give in, Aoba."_

The memory took him away from the pain, and he could almost feel the warmth of the setting sun of that day, the light wind ruffling his hair.

_"When you're lonely or sad, don't give in..."_

His large honey eyes, trying to look brave despite the tears that had been there before. The way he looked back and up at him, as if he was someone capable of taking on the world. The way the sound of his name from his lips send a surge of joy through his very being.

_"We have to get stronger, to protect Granny and my mom, don't you think?" he had said._

The way his honey eyes twinkled back at him, before a small hand reached forward to grasp his own, an innocent and comforting smile on his face as he nodded in agreement.

_"Don't give in… Koujaku."_

No… he wouldn't give in. He wouldn't give in to this life. To his father… he would prevail, and be strong. He had to. For his mother… for Aoba… and for himself.

_'I won't give in… I won't give in… I won't… give in…'_

By the time the man over him was finished for the day, his vision was already blurring, his head felt like it would split in two, and his mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. The pain slowly faded into numbness and he took in gasps of air as if he had been dunked underwater. Even the pain from where he had bitten his arm had numbed. He felt tired… so tired. He wanted nothing more than to let himself sleep, to let himself slip into the darkness that threatened to overtake him any second now.

A chuckle from the man over him made him shudder.

"My… this is coming along quite nice. This might be my best creation yet…"

Another dark chuckle, and if Koujaku had the energy, he would have frowned.

Cold fingers ran down the sides of his sensitive skin, and Koujaku hissed at the sharp pain that followed.

"Don't worry Koujaku… soon your mark will be complete, and you will truly be the head of your family."

To hell with his damn mark… he didn't want it on his body. He didn't want the permanent ink that would be imbedded into his skin for the rest of his life. This wasn't his family, and he didn't want any part of it. But what choice did he have? He had to do it… he had to take on this burden… for his mother. He had to protect her, even if this was the cost.

"Rest now, Koujaku."

He didn't want to listen to him, but his body did, and before he realized it, his world faded into darkness.

* * *

><p>He woke up to the sound of quiet sobs, and the feeling of something moist on his back. He knew who it was, this is what always happened after a session with the tattoo artist.<p>

"M-mom…" the single word came out as a hoarse whisper, his throat felt dry and his lips chapped.

Never in his life had he craved water so badly.

The sobs of his mother intensified at the sound of his voice.

"I'm so sorry Koujaku… I'm so sorry… I-I…"

He didn't know why she was apologizing. She wasn't the one forcing him to take on this mark… to go through this pain. She was the one that was helping him through it, that was here for him to clean up after the damage was made.

He tried to tell her this… but words were suddenly impossible to form through the dryness of his throat and mouth, the heaviness of his tongue. So he summoned the strength to move his arm, and blindly reached behind him towards where the sound of her voice had come. He was glad she understood, and he took comfort in the feeling of her soft hand on his.

"I… I will bear this," he was finally able to say, despite the difficulty.

She continued to clean his back in silence, and Koujaku took comfort in her presence, welcoming her gentle touch on his back. It was a gentle reprieve compared to the merciless hands that had touched him before. Still, before long fatigue once more consumed him, and before he knew it, he had slipped into a deep slumber once again.

The next morning he was able to get up, even though it stung to make any abrupt movements. He walked stiffly, but he joined his mother for breakfast in the separate house they were given. It was a decent house, nicer than the house they had lived in Midorijima. But even the luxury of it didn't make it feel like home.

He never saw his father's wife, but his father would sometimes come to check in on them. From what he had seen of him, he was a cold, distant, and prideful man, but he wasn't evil.

He had generously provided for himself and his mother, and he had promised to ensure that they would be able to live peaceful lives here, that they didn't have to worry about necessities, and anything they needed would be provided for them.

As long as he fulfilled his duty and became a worthy heir.

That morning was one of the rare times he came to check in on them, but it was something Koujaku had come to expect. He always came after a tattoo session.

As he entered the dining room, his mother stood and greeted him with a respectful bow. Being the last family of Japanese heritage within the walls, his father made sure that traditions remained. This was another reason why he was so adamant on having an heir that was a direct descendant, of blood just as of name.

While his mother went to prepare tea and a bowl of food for him, his father sat down across from him, a stoic look on his face. He was an older man, with graying hair and the red eyes he had inherited. He regarded him with a calculative look, but Koujaku remained calm and composed under his gaze.

"I'm glad to see you are up," he finally said, his face remained devoid of emotion, but Koujaku knew he was being praised.

"Are you feeling well?"

He felt himself relax slightly, and gave a small nod to the man across from him. His mother returned with tea, and placed a cup in front of the older man, pouring the tea in afterwards. The man gave her a nod of thanks, and raised the steaming cup to his mouth to take a drink.

"I'm told your next session will be your last," he said as he placed the cup back down onto the table.

Koujaku felt himself tense once more at the reminder that it wasn't over, and his back flared with pain as he remember the night before. Still, Koujaku nodded stiffly once more.

For the first time, the man across from him showed emotion as a smirk formed on his face.

"You've done well, Koujaku. I know you will bring honor to this family."

Koujaku didn't respond, but his grip on the chopsticks in his hand tightened.

The three continued to eat in relative silence, the overbearing presence of the man seeming to fill the room more than the stifling silence. Koujaku felt his appetite diminish, even though he had little to begin with. Still, he forced himself to eat bite after bite, knowing he needed to remain strong, to show this man that he wouldn't be easily intimidated. Even if he was giving him what he wanted…

After the food was finished, his mother cleared away the plates silently, and Koujaku was once more left with his father. The two looked at each other, their eyes saying more than words would.

Finally his father raised his head higher, before he stood up.

"It was nice seeing you son, I will send news of when the next session will be."

And without another look in his direction, the towering man turned and left the way he came, leaving Koujaku with dread in his heart and a lump in his throat.

* * *

><p>Less than three weeks had passed when someone was sent to tell him the news.<p>

Today would be the day when his tattoo would be completed.

Koujaku was surprised by the news. He was usually allowed at least a month to heal in between sessions. His mother was just as surprised as he was from the look of horror on her face, and he felt the familiar dread seep in as his fists clenched at his sides.

Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply, released his tense muscles, and unclenched his fists. It would be fine… after this… it would finally be over. A part of him found comfort in the thought, and his heart rate picked up in anticipation. Yes… after this it would finally be over. It didn't matter if his back hadn't fully healed, he could bare it for one more night, and one more month of healing.

With that thought in mind, he went outside to the pond outside the house they were given, intent on meditating so that he could prepare for the night of pain that he knew was in store for him.

As he folded his legs beneath him and he stared onto the rippling water of the pond, he found solace in the warmth of the sun that shone down on him. He let his thoughts wander, to the future that was in store for him after this day. Once the tattoo was complete, he would truly be taken under his father's wing, where he would be taught the politics, mannerisms, and expectations of the families of high standing. He would have to learn how to be a proper heir. He saw plenty of things, but not the one thing he wanted.

He didn't see happiness in his future. He didn't see blue hair and honey eyes.

Koujaku sighed.

Why?

Why did his thoughts always stray back to him? Why did he yearn to see his smile once more? He would trade anything, everything, just to see it once more. A part of him wondered if he should be disturbed by such a desperate thought, but another part of him didn't seem to care. What was there to look forward in his future?

Could he ever go back? Was that a possibility? Or would the life here be all consuming? Would his every move and decision change him? Would he eventually look in the mirror one day and not recognize the face that looked back at him?

Koujaku shook his head.

These were not thoughts he should be thinking. He shouldn't be thinking at all. He needed to meditate and prepare himself.

And so he did.

By the time he was brought back from his meditation, it was to be summoned into the room that he was well acquainted with. As he walked the familiar path, his feet gradually felt heavier. The layout of the house was of Japanese style, perhaps the only one within the walls. He had been told that this had been built by the first generation within the walls, and each generation after had made sure to maintain it throughout the years.

As he reached the sliding doors carefully crafted with paintings of the familiar dragon and flora, he took a deep breath before opening it, coming to face the familiar room with the cot on the ground and a lantern in the corner. Already the tattoo artist, Ryuho, had laid out his tools, and he looked up to meet his gaze with a grin on his face and anticipation in his cold eyes.

"Welcome, Koujaku.

Squaring his shoulders, Koujaku entered the room, and closed the doors behind him.

* * *

><p>The pain he experienced was excruciating, more powerful than any of the sessions before. He wasn't sure if it was because he hadn't been given enough time to heal properly, or because Ryuho was particularly merciless, but for the first time, Koujaku felt tears gather in the corners of his eyes. Even biting his own arm didn't seem to damper the pain, and the pain was so strong that he didn't even feel capable of thinking. He only saw red, and felt the constant jab of the needle on his back. It took all his willpower just to remain still, to fight the urge to run despite the consequences that would follow.<p>

But it was too much.

Too much.

Too painful.

Red.

Red.

Pain.

Too much.

Too much.

Make it stop.

Please…

Stop…

Too much…

Stop…

End it…

Please…

Tears finally escaped his eyes, and his body could no longer take the pain of it all. He wasn't sure how long he had endured the pain, but soon the red began to falter, and he welcomed the relief of numbness that came with the darkness that took him…

"STOP IT!"

"NO MORE!"

"I WON'T LET YOU!"

The familiarity of the voice cut through the darkness, and Koujaku felt as if he was in a dream. His surroundings felt just out of reach, and everything he heard was as if it was muffled. But he recognized that voice. It was the one that had comforted him time and time again as he grew up, the voice that would welcome him back every time he came home. The voice he associated with a home cooked meal and a warm embrace.

'_Mom?_' he thought, his eyes fighting to focus as he mustered the energy to raise his heavy head.

He grimaced at the pain that flared in his back at the slight movement, but he ignored it, fighting to focus his gaze on where the sound of his mother had come from. The scene before him made his eyes widened. His mother was on top of Ryoho, fighting to take the needle from his hand while Ryuho struggled to push her away. Ryoho managed to push her away several times, but no matter how many time he did she always went back, trying to desperately take the needle from him as tears streaked down her face.

"Don't touch him anymore!" she cried.

Koujaku was still trying to wrap his mind around the scene happening before him when he heard the sound of the doors sliding open and multiple pairs of feet coming into the room. He watched as the men grabbed his mother and pulled her thrashing form away from Ryoho who stood up with a grimace on his face.

He watched as the tattoo artist said something too low for him to hear, only for his mom to struggle harder in the grip of the man that held her back. Koujaku's vision was still blurry, and he had to fight to keep himself from losing consciousness. As he blinked to clear his vision, he came to the sight of his mother escaping the grasp of the man, only to pull out a knife that one of the man carried at his waist. At the sight of the weapon, several man lunged at her, and a scuffle followed. Koujaku's heart raced in his chest, and he fought to sit up despite the pain that followed.

He managed to get his upper body up on his elbows, his head was once more throbbing with the pain, and he had to struggle to hold his weight and focus his vision at the same time. He could barely hear the sounds of the struggle happening in front of him, and when he was finally able to look at the scene, he felt as if the air was knocked out of his lung.

In front of him… was his mother… with a knife thrust through her back. He didn't know who had done it… but he felt his blood run cold at the sight. But the shock went as fast as he had come, only to be replaced by an unfamiliar emotion.

Rage.

He felt his vision bleed red, and it was as if the pain was forgotten. In its place, he felt as if his body was on fire. His very being was set alight with rage, and with an animalistic cry, he stood up from his place on the ground. His vision blurred, and he felt as if it was pulsating. He didn't even know what he was doing anymore, only that he wanted to… no—_needed_—to put those men out of their misery. It was as if his body was controlling itself, consumed by the fire and pulsating of his blood as it moved to grab the sword that hung in display on the wall next to the cot.

The red in his gaze seemed to grow heavier and darker, and another cry of rage escaped his throat as he unsheathed the sword and rushed in the direction of the men who had just hurt his mother. With every step he took, the father away from his body Koujaku felt as his vision darkened.

As he reached the group of men, he brought up his arms and felt the first slash of a sword on human flesh.

And then everything went black.

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><p><strong>The Realist:<strong> _T-T _

_Next chapter will be about how this turn of events will lead our dear Koujaku into the world of Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan as we know 's not a crossover for nothing! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and felt as bad for Koujaku as I felt for writing this. _

_Thanks again for those of you who took the time to review, and I hope that you guys will stick around. Feel free to let me know what you think of this story :)_


	3. Chapter Three

**R&R**

* * *

><p><strong>DRAMAtical Soldiers<strong>

**Tbe Realist:** _Thanks again to those who returned and left a review! Finals and Holidays took over my life for a while, but I finally returned! This is a short chapter, but it's fine because it has everything it needs. So without further ado, enjoy! :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

Koujaku felt as though he were walking through a murky darkness, a darkness that felt thick and almost tangible, as if he was walking through water. It was suffocating, and he felt as if he was forgetting something… as if there was something he had to do.

Why couldn't he remember?

The thickness of his surroundings made it almost impossible to think, to remember where he was. Was he dreaming?

No… he needed to focus!

Reigning in his consciousness, he fought to escape the darkness that consumed him. He needed to get out of it. Wake up! Wake up! Even though he felt as if he didn't have control of his body, Koujaku fought with all the willpower he possessed, trying to escape the murky darkness that consumed him.

He felt as if he was drowning… but he fought harder, thrashing through the thickness until he felt it growing lighter around him.

Until finally, he felt as if he surfaced from the bottom of an ocean, and light poured through.

But he wasn't ready for the sight that met him.

His eyes widened and the air was knocked out of his lungs. His body went rigid, and as he fearfully looked around him, and he witnessed the bloodied bodies of those around him, his body began to shake.

But none of that could compare to the sight of his mother, sprawled on the floor, blood soaking the kimono she wore. He didn't need to touch her to know that she was gone… and the despair that clutched at his heart was too much to bear.

He sank to his knees, the weapon that he had used to kill his mother still in his grip as tears began to run down his face.

"What have I done…."

But he knew what he had done… he had killed these men and his mother.

"Why…."

He didn't know… he couldn't remember… when had this happened? He tried so hard, so hard to recall the events that had happened… but the last thing he remembered was the pain of the tattoo on his back.

He was a monster… only a monster could have done what he had done here. He felt so many things at once. Despair, fear, disgust, remorse. The feelings swam inside his mind he couldn't think, his heart beat so hard in his chest he was sure it would explode, and his body wouldn't stop shaking.

It was too much… he was a monster. Monster. Monster.

Monster….monster…. monster… monstermonstermonster.

It was the only thought that seemed to pierce the feelings that coursed through his body. He clutched at his head, pulling at his hair, hoping that the pain would take away the feelings that threatened to consume him.

But it was too much.

He didn't deserve to live.

He _couldn't_ live.

Desperately, he reached for the sword that had fallen from his hands, his eyes wide as he grasped it and brought It up, intent on driving it through his very heart.

He needed to die… he needed to pay… he needed to make it all end.

His hands shook, and his heart beat even faster.

But he needed to do this.

He had to.

"Ahhhh!"

With a guttural cry, he brought the sword down towards him, but just as he was about to pierce his own heart… blue hair and honey eyes flashed through his mind.

With a gasp, his arms froze.

He remembered… his smiling face… the warmth in his eyes.

_"Don't give up… Koujaku."_

With a choked sob, the sword fell from his hands, and he fell forward onto his hands. Tears continued to fall down his face and onto the floor beneath him.

He wanted to die. He wanted to die so badly…

But why…

Why did he want to see him just as much?

Why did he want to see that smile just as badly?

Sobs wrecked his shaking body as his nails dug into the floor beneath him. The pain was excruciating, he felt as if his heart would explode, as if his very being was being torn apart. It was as if every cell in his body was being pierced with a knife, over and over and over again. He felt his body curl in on himself, and he let the pain consume him.

He needed to let himself feel this. He needed to pay for his actions. Dying would be to merciful for what he had done…

Gradually, his tears died down, even if the pain didn't. And it was in the silence that followed that he heard it.

Footsteps… footsteps were heading his way.

Without thinking, Koujaku stood, took one final look at his mother's form on the ground, and left the room as he escaped to the nighttime air. Not looking back, Koujaku set out to create as much room between himself and the home that turned him into a monster.

He could no longer stay there. The only reason he had stayed was for his mother… and now he had killed her. Was he so selfish, that he had killed his mother so that he could escape the pain?

The thought froze him where he stood, and a new stab of pain clutched at his heart. His body suddenly felt heavy, and his red eyes looked up to the moon overhead. Could that have been it? If so… he was a bigger monster than he thought.

But once more… blue hair and honey eyes flashed through his head.

His fists clenched at his sides, and before he knew what he was doing, he struck the stone building beside him. The numbing pain felt good as he grinded his teeth in his clenched jaw.

"Dammit!" he cried aloud, sinking down to his knees.

Why was he so selfish? How could he justify anything? He shouldn't be here… he should be alive… so why did he push on?

"What am I supposed to do?"

For the first time in his life… Koujaku was lost.

He had always prided himself in knowing what to do. Even if he didn't know what to do, he never showed it. He would take things one step at a time, and led it lead him to the solution. Could he do that now? One step at a time… but what was the first step? Should he return to Midorijima? After all… where else was there to go? The only home he had known lay on his birthplace, the only place where he had known happiness. Did he even deserve that?

But he knew the answer.

He was selfish.

And so he would return.

* * *

><p><strong>One Month Later<strong>

Koujaku took his time in returning. He had hoped doing so would give him time to think about his actions, and to find a reason to never return. To give himself the punishment he deserved.

But too soon, the gates of Midorijima stood in front of him.

The scars on his back had healed for the most part, along the way several people went out of the way to help him treat his bloodied and painful back. It was always an act of kindness he felt he didn't deserve. He wished the people would let him suffer like he wanted to.

Still, even when he finally reached the gates he hesitated to enter.

His heart rate picked up, and a mixture of anticipation and dread flooded his system. But he had already come this far, and still he hadn't found a reason to turn back.

And so, he steeled his resolve, straightened his posture, and walked forward despite the suddenly heaviness of his legs. Even after being gone for so long, he was surprised at how familiar the district remained. Even now, he knew every street and where it would lead, and the quickest route to his destination.

But he chose not to take the short route, and deliberately walked in circles around the town. He wasn't sure what he meant by it. Maybe he simply wanted to take in the surroundings he had left behind, or maybe he wanted to delay the sight he yearned for as much as possible.

What he did know, was that he didn't feel worthy to face him yet.

The sound of bells ringing drew him away from his thoughts, and in his time away, he had almost forgotten what the sound meant. His brow furrowed, and for the first time in his life, his feet took him to the gates of Wall Maria, where he knew soldiers would be walking through.

He had never cared to go before, he had never given the military much thought. They had had almost a century of no incidents after all, and his mother had never particularly approved of the military either. The most he saw was the Garrison as they tended to the walls and lazed around, something that didn't improve his interest in the military.

Still, this could be another thing that delayed the reason he had come back in the first place, and a good a reason as any.

So he pushed through the crowd forming inside the gates, until he was in front of the crowd, and with a clear view of the spectacle that followed.

And although he had no expectations, he was taken aback by what he saw.

As the soldiers entered, he could almost see the anguish that hung over them like a veil. The atmosphere around them was heavy, carried by their slumped shoulders, their pain visible in their weary faces and dead eyes. Some of them hadn't come back fully intact, many came back missing an arm or leg, visible wounds wrapped in bandages, and carts full of what he knew had to be dead bodies covered in cloth.

He could hear the murmurs of the people around him, the disapproval and borderline disgust as they complained about the wasted efforts and idiocy of the soldiers who returned.

As the soldiers passed him, the emblem on their back caught his eyes.

The Wings of Freedom.

These were the people that had dedicated their efforts and put their lives on the line to fight the Titans that lay outside, to find hope for humanity. They were the ones that people looked down upon for their unrealistic ideals, for throwing their lives away and bringing grief to families without gaining anything in turn.

But as he watched them pass, something unfamiliar thumped in his chest.

This was it… this was his reason.

What better way to atone for what he had done, than to fight for humanity's sake? What better way to pay, than to die at the hands of a Titan? What better way to be worthy, than to return from the jaws of death?

This was the reason he had been looking for. This was what he had to do.

This, he knew without a shred of doubt.

He would join the Survey Corps, become a soldier, protect humanity, and become worthy of seeing Aoba's smiling face once more.

He would fight the Titans, and if he returned alive, he would see Aoba once more.

* * *

><p><strong>The Realist:<strong> _And that is the end of Koujaku's mini-arc, and why he joins the Survey Corps! Hopefully you guys weren't bored too much with the slow build up. Well, next up, is Noiz's arc! I'm so excited for it, just because I have so many ideas(whereas for Koujaku it was mostly a retelling of what we already know in a different world). And cause, we get to see Levi! Yay! Have you guys seen No Regrets Yet? I just wish they would make it into more than just 2 OVA's... if you haven't seen it, you should, because we'll be seeing Isabel and Farlan in this fic as well. And trust me, they are hard characters not to like. Hope you guys enjoyed, and feedback is always appreciated :)_


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